


And Here I Thought a Four Year Old Dean Would Act the Same

by spnandsadness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon Divergence, Case Fic, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Demon uprising, Emotionally Hurt Dean, Emotionally Repressed Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Protective Castiel, Sam is a Saint, The attempted Rape/drugging is not Castiel/Dean Winchester, The witch is actually really nice, Witch - Freeform, attempted nonconsensual drugging, but also kind of third person, like if hearing about burned genitals grosses you out then there are two brief mentions of that, mentions of rape/non-con, some gore, switching POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnandsadness/pseuds/spnandsadness
Summary: When Sam and Dean are hunting a witch, she notices something and decides to help Dean out...in her own way.NOTE: This fic is complete





	1. Found a Case

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so here's chapter one, I don't know exactly how often I'll update, but I'll try to be as fast as I can! Thank you, and I hope you have a great day! Note: There are going to be 7 chapters, I didn't realize that ao3 didn't make that clear.

“Dean, got a case.”

“Yeah? What do you think it is, or are you gonna put it in the category of ‘weird crap that we should check out just to make sure’?” Dean asked, looking over at his brother.

“I’m thinking it’s a witch.”

“Really? Really? I mean come on! We were almost at the bunker, too.” And he’d been looking forward to finally getting some rest in an actual bed. One that didn’t have mysterious stains, or give him backaches, one that wasn’t five feet away from his brother. Dean loved Sam, don’t get him wrong, but sometimes, he kinda just wanted to be alone when he slept.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I think so. Guy named Adam Levett died yesterday, coroner says that his heart was stabbed clean through with no entry wound.”

“Alright. But I get to choose the station” Sam had already stopped paying attention, reading something on his phone, probably something for the case.

“Yeah, alright.”

\---------------

“This is, by far the strangest thing that’s ever come through this town.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here. Now if you could please tell me exactly what happened to Mr. Levett?” Sam looked through the file in his hands for the autopsy report. “The report just says ‘extensive burns and trauma; no skin broken.’”

“Well-you see-” Coroner Olisson took a deep breath, and calmed herself before continuing. “It’s kind of a see-it-to-believe-it kind of thing.” She explained nervously as she pulled his drawer out of the cold chamber.

“It’s like he was stabbed in the heart, but without the blade having broken his skin. And, uh...that’s not all of it.” She said with a grimace.

“There’s more?” Dean asked, bracing himself. Instead of answering verbally, the coroner just pulled the sheet off of his body. _Oh yeah, there’s definitely more_ Dean thinks, staring at what used to be Adam’s penis. Where a probably a respectable penis used to be, there was now a charred lump of shriveled flesh. _And it’s definitely a witch_. He thought, exchanging a pained glance with Sam.

“So, was the vic in a relationship with anyone?” Sam asked, his voice a little higher than usual.

“Yes, he had a wife. Her name is Abby Levett, but she was already questioned by the police.”

“That’s okay, we just have a few extra questions the police might not have asked.”

\---------------

Dean lightly shouldered Sam out of the way to get to the doorbell before him, and grinned as he saw the bitchface Sam threw at him. Ha. _Point-Me_ , Dean thought as he straightened his face when he heard movement towards the door.

The door opened to reveal a tired and disheveled woman wearing sweatpants and a Green Day tank top.

“I’m very sorry, but I’m not looking to buy...” Sam and Dean flipped open their FBI badges silently. “Anything?”

“Hello, I’m Agent Nicks, and this is Agent Rose, we’re here to ask you a few questions about your late husband.” Sam told her with an apologetic smile. She rubbed her hand down her face, and stepped back from the door.

“I’m very sorry, everything’s been a little hectic since Adam’s Death. Come in, please.” She motioned them inside.

As soon as she turned her back, Sam pushed past Dean to get into the house, getting him back for the doorbell. She led them into a sitting room, where she offered them coffee.

“No thank you.” _Why is coming to someone’s house always awkward? Just once, I’d like a non anxiety inducing interview. Once!_ Dean thought as he put on a polite smile.

“May I ask why exactly you’re here? It’s just that the police have already asked me all the questions they had.”

“Yes, well the FBI has a few...extra questions that the police probably didn’t ask you. I’m sorry, but before we ask those, could you please tell us both what you were doing at the time of death, and what he did that day?”

“Well, I was doing some work in my office upstairs, grading my student’s essays; a normal Wednesday night. Adam woke up, went to work until 5, and then went to the bar, as usual.” Sam and Dean exchanged looks and shifted.

“‘As usual’? He goes to the bar after work on weeknights often?” Sam inquired, writing something down on his notepad.

“Yes, and he usually goes home with someone.” She started speaking faster as she went on. “No, we don’t...didn’t have an open relationship, and I’ve known for a while. We were in the middle of getting a divorce when he died, my parents are the only reason one of us hasn’t moved out yet. They’re pretty conservative, and don’t look kindly on people who get a divorce. I was planning on breaking it to them slowly.” She finished talking, and looked at her folded hands in her lap, subconsciously stretching out her bare left ring finger. The ring had been taken off a while ago, the ring of pale skin was almost back to the same color as the rest of the finger. “If I may ask,” Sam started, obviously taken aback by the new information.

“If I may...why did you tell this to us? All of this makes you look very suspicious, you must realize.”

“Yes, but it would be even more suspicious if you found out later, and realized that I’d withheld all,” She gestured at the space in front of her with her hands, “This.”

“Ah. Well, thank you for your time, if you need us-” Ms. Levett cut Dean off, saying “What about the extra questions?”

“Excuse me?” Dean smiled politely, just wanting to leave.

“The questions that the police wouldn’t have asked.” She explained.

“Right! Thank you, almost forgot.” Sam replied. “Have you felt any cold spots, or heard any strange noises, like maybe animals in the walls? Power outages?”

Ms Levett gave a very confused “No…?”, and they wished her a good day and left.

\---------------

Sam looked through a list of Adam’s coworkers and friends, trying to narrow down the people to interview as Dean got their food.

“Here is your hippie meal,” Dean announced, setting down the caesar salad in front of Sam. Dean sat across from Sam, put the burger in front of him, then pointed at it and said “If you ever want an example of food that a man would eat, it’s right there.” Sam rolled his eyes and started adding dressing. “What’re you doing? We just found the witch,” He said, though, admittedly it sounded more like ‘Whht’rm nhh dhnng, wm jhft fhhnd thm wntgh’.

“No, we found a suspect. As in one. It’s never the first person we try, and I don’t think she’s guilty. Can we talk after you’ve finished your heart attack on a bun?” Dean sighed and nodded. “Cool, I”ll look for a motel.”


	2. Heaven, Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context, this is set during season 8, but an alternate season 8 where the angels don't hate Cas.

“We aren’t getting anywhere. We have neither jack nor  _ squat _ .” Dean snapped, closing his book (but not before bending the page down, because he is  _ not _ going to spend ten minutes trying to find that page again).

 

He’d been doing research since eleven in the morning, and it was now seven in the evening. Dean was  _ bored _ . At least Sam got to go out and interview the locals for a few hours before coming back to the motel room. Dean had been looking through useless witness reports eight  hours. Because ‘we don’t know she’s the witch for sure Dean!’.  _ God _ , he’s irritated just thinking about Sammy’s ‘we need to do more useless research’ face, which he always falls for, because said face included the goddamn puppy eyes.

 

“Alright. We need to check out the bar that the victim was at, anyways. Let’s just go now.” Sam replied, also shutting his book, secretly thanking god that they had finally gotten a break. He hadn’t moved in so long that his back cracked while he was standing up.

 

“Ha, old man.” Dean teased, but froze and stopped laughing as he heard his own back do the same.

 

“You were saying?” Sam tried (and failed) to hold in a laugh.

 

“Bitch.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

\---------------

 

There wasn’t much of a crowd in the bar yet, so they got to choose a good booth, in the back and in a place where they could always see what’s going on. Dean sat on the edge of the seat, where he could quickly leave if needed. He scanned the room, noting the hot bartender and the few people sitting on stools looking to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible.

 

“So, I was thinking that if Heaven isn’t too busy, then we could call Cas, maybe hunt the case with him?” Sam said, opening his laptop, and starting to type something.

 

“Are you sure? I mean the dude’s got to be sick of us by now, this is what, the third hunt we’ve asked him to partner with us in two months?” Dean asked, smiling at the pretty waitress coming over to them.

 

“Uh, I’ll have a Diet Coke, thank you.” Sam said, nodded, and waited as Dean ordered his beer. As soon as she left to get their drinks, he continued the conversation. “Why’d you think he’d get sick of us now? I mean you spent  _ months _ with him in Purgatory, a few days or a week every now and then wouldn’t make him get sick of us. Not to mention the fact that, and brace yourself,” Sam leaned forward, and whispered overdramatically “He actually  _ enjoys spending time with you _ .”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but he’s got Heaven now, and angels, his  _ family _ . And they’ve forgiven him. I don’t want to keep him from spending time with them.” Dean explained, getting quieter towards the end.

 

“If he didn’t want to be here, he’d pretend to be busy, or just ignore us.” Sam tried to reassure Dean.

 

“Fine,” Dean said, leaning back and slouching. When Sam looked pointedly at him, Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

“Dear Castiel, O’ Angel of Thursdays, temperance, and all that jazz, we’ve got a hunt, and we thought you might want to come down and work with us if Heaven isn’t too busy.”

 

Sam and Dean looked around as nothing happened.

 

“Does that satisfy your desire?” Dean asked, not admitting to himself that he was disappointed at Cas not showing up.

 

“Here’s your drinks,” She smiled at Dean as she handed out their drinks, then leaned over to wipe a clean spot on the table. “You want anything else?” She asked.

 

“Just one more thing, actually.”

 

Before Dean could defeat the purpose of going to the bar by hooking up with Mindy, Sam cut in with “We’re good, thank you very much.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes and watched the waitress walk back to the kitchen.

 

“Hello, Dean.” The brothers jumped as Castiel flew in next to Dean. “I’m sorry for the delay, I needed to explain something to Eremial.”

 

“S’all good, come on, have a seat,” Dean scooted to the inside of the booth, and patted where he had been sitting. “How’s Heaven, you playing nice with the other kids?”

 

“Heaven is going well, if somewhat frustrating at times.”  Castiel replied, sitting next to Dean.

 

“Frustrating? Anyone giving you trouble?” Dean asked, concerned. “They still mad about the whole ‘God’ thing?”

 

“No, surprisingly that isn’t the problem. Somehow it ended up that I was one of the most powerful angels left, and there have been some new duties that I have, one of which is organizing the garrisons under my charge and making sure things get done.”

 

“‘Garrisons’? As in plural? You’re in charge of multiple garrisons? Do they all have the same purpose in Heaven, or are you in charge of different branches now?” Sam was acting like it was second Christmas, but with better presents.

 

“Sam, can’t you see the dude’s drained? You can nerd over him later, at least let him get some rest first.” Dean interrupted, before Sam overwhelmed the poor angel.

 

Cas smiled gratefully, and in response to Sam, “Yes, I am in charge of multiple garrisons, three actually. Two of the garrisons are soldiers, like the garrison I captained before, but the third one is in charge of the humans in Heaven. Making sure they’re staying where they’re supposed to, and not eavesdropping.” He said the last two sentences with a pointed look towards Sam and Dean, and sighed. “Ashton ‘Badass’” At Dean’s imploring look, he added in “Apparently at some point in his human life he legally changed his name. Nevertheless, he has caused us so much trouble that about two Earth weeks ago, and two Heaven months ago, I told them to just ignore everyone affiliated to you. I don’t mean to say that I don’t enjoy Heaven, but every time you call me down here, I thank God himself.”

 

“‘Two Heaven months’?” Dean questioned. “If time is longer in Heaven than on Earth, or however that works, how much time is passing right now?” Dean asked, not willing to admit that he was nerding out a little.

 

“It has been approximately 28 minutes in Heaven since I’ve arrived.” Castiel replied, and then let his head drop. “You know, sometimes I wonder if being human is really that bad. No angels interrupting you while you’re in a conversation with someone you enjoy spending time with. No duties.”

 

“I’m going to go get you some better drinks. You, sir, look like you need whiskey, and I need a beer refill.” Dean said.

 

_ Why did I drag him out here? He has so much to do in Heaven that I’m distracting him from. But he said that he enjoys coming here, that it relaxes him. He was just being polite. Why would  _ you _ relax anyone. Everything bad that’s happened to him in the past 5 plus years has been because of  _ your _ stupid decisions. He’s probably  _ this close _ to wanting to kill you.. _ Dean was pulled out of his head by the bartender handing him the drinks.

 

It was always amusing to watch Castiel knock back shot after shot, without changing his demeanour at all, especially when other people started watching, and then betting. He was so caught up in it, that he almost forgot about his own beer.

 

\---------------

 

Sam jumped out of bed, knife clutched tightly in his hand when he was woken up by something shaking him. It wasn’t Dean, he knew that, Dean woke him up like they had to leave immediately or the apocalypse would happen. Again. This was much more gentle. Castiel could just snap his fingers and make him more alert than coffee ever could. Besides, he’d gone away so as not to creep Dean out by watching over him while he slept. Sam didn’t really see the big deal with that, all the more protection the better, right?

 

His eyes finally focused, and he looked around, trying to see what had attacked him. He couldn’t see anything. Sam turned to ask Dean about it, but panicked when he noticed the bed was empty.

 

“Dean! Dea-” Sam went silent when he saw a terrified kindergartener on the floor, pressed up against Dean’s bed, looking like he was about to start sobbing. He realized that the child was probably what woke him up, and slowly moved towards him.  _ Hopefully his parents are just next door _ , as Sam did this, however, the child made a scared noise and tried to get as far away from him as possible.

 

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m not going to hurt you,” Sam spoke as softly as he could, in an attempt to calm the kid down, but it was no use. At this point he remembered he was clutching a seven inch knife, and that probably wasn’t going to help anything. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, I just need to find your parents.”

 

“Promise?” The kid asked quietly.

 

“I promise.”  _ Finally, I’m getting somewhere _ , Sam thought, smiling reassuringly to try and coax the kid to his feet.

 

“Pinky promise?” This time, the kid - _ I really need to find out his name, so I can stop calling him ‘the kid’ _ spoke a little louder, extending his hand towards Sam.

 

“Pinky promise.”  _ It’s funny, _ Sam mused,  _ Dean used to always seal things with pinky promises when we were kids _ . He hooked his finger around the child’s, and gave it a firm squeeze. “I hereby officially pinky promise that I will not hurt you. Now, do you know what room you’re staying in?”

 

“No, I really need to find my dad. He’s gonna be mad that I left my baby brother.” He seemed kind of worried, but soon brightened up. “ _ I  _ take care of him. All by myself, too.” He stated this proudly, and Sam smiled, taking the little guy’s hand, and starting him towards the door.

 

“We can always just ask at the desk. Oh, what’s your name?” Sam asked.

  
“Dean. And my brother’s name is Sammy.” Sam stopped in his tracks  _ Oh shit. _


	3. Toys and Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Sam explain to Dean what happened

Castiel flew in as quickly as possible when he received Sam’s prayer about Dean being in trouble. “Where is Dean?” He demanded immediately, looking around the motel room. Sam was kneeling next to a sobbing child.

“You pinky promised!” The child cried, trying to run away from Sam, who had an arm keeping the child firmly in place while he was trying to calm him down.

 

“Sam…” Castiel began hesitantly.  _ Does Sam realize that this child is human? _ It was the most logical reason for Sam to be holding this child against their will.

 

“Dean, you need to calm down! I wasn’t lying, I’m not going to hurt you,”

 

“Dean?”  _ I must’ve misheard Sam _ , Castiel thought, but still, he looked into the child’s soul. The soul was Dean’s. Albeit a much younger soul, one that hadn’t suffered everything that the thirty four year old Dean had.

 

“Witch. Freaking witches.” Sam grunted out, still trying to keep Dean in place. Castiel used some of his grace to knock Dean out, so that they could figure out how to tell him.

 

“What happened? How long has Dean been like this?” Castiel asked, sitting on the bed, a few feet away from Dean.

 

Sam sighed and poured himself some whiskey from the bottle on the nightstand. “I woke up around fifteen minutes ago, and Dean was here. I thought he was just a kid who wandered into our room, and I was going to find his parents, but then I realized he was Dean, and prayed to you. He doesn’t remember who we are, I think he has the same memories from when he was five. He remembered me and Dad.” Sam sighed, because  _ this _ was normal in his life. “Cas, what are we going to do?” He sat down on his bed and slumped, hunching his shoulders and dropping his head.

 

Castiel tried to think of a solution. “We will find the witch that did this, and force her to change Dean back. In the meantime we will take care of Dean, after explaining as much of the situation as possible.”

 

Sam looked up. “What if she doesn’t turn Dean back?”

 

Castiel felt his eyes flash blue for a second, and forced himself to calm down. “She will.” He looked back at Dean, confirming that he was unharmed, then used grace to make sure that he would sleep until morning. “Go back to sleep. I will watch over the both of you until Dean wakes up.” He told Sam, who finished his whiskey and sighed, lying down and closing his eyes.

 

“You wake me up if anything, and I mean  _ anything _ happens. I want to know if he snuffles a little in his sleep.” Castiel nodded, understanding Sam’s protectiveness. Never had he been more glad that he didn’t need to sleep.

 

\---------------

 

Sam was on his second cup of coffee when Dean started to wake up. Cas was immediately focused on Dean, ready to calm him down if needed. Sam and Cas waited for Dean to get his bearings and remember what happened last night, and then freak out again, but it didn’t happen. 

 

Instead, Dean woke up, froze, then after a few seconds, sat up, and said very petulantly “If you don’ give me back right now my dad’s gonna hurt you. An’ he’s gonna hurt you real bad.” It was probably supposed to be threatening, or at least kind of fear inducing, but it was just really adorable. 

 

“Dean, Sam and I need to explain something to you,” Castiel begun, forgetting that Dean didn’t know that he and Sam were… Him and Sam. When Dean looked at him strangely, he explained. “I’m Castiel, and this is Sam. This is going to be hard for you to understand, but I need you to listen carefully.”

 

Dean nodded stiffly, and though it was a very inappropriate time, Sam really wanted to laugh at his brother acting so serious while three and a half feet tall, and having yet to grow out of his baby chub. He composed himself, but only barely.

 

“We are in 2013, and you are an adult, and a hunter. While hunting a witch with your brother, Sam,” Castiel pointed at Sam, in the hopes that it would help Dean believe that this was real, and not a trick. “The witch cursed you, and turned you back into a five year old.”

 

“You’re lying!” Dean said boldly. “My dad wouldn’t let that happen! If I  _ was _ hunting a witch, then where’s he, huh?”

 

“Dad’s hunting a wendigo.” Sam lied quickly, not willing to tell Dean that his father was dead. “He lets us hunt without him now.” He handed Dean the photo album he’d gotten out before Dean had woken up, the one that shows them getting older with John and Bobby. It also contained an unburned copy of the photo Bobby took before they went to try and kill Lucifer during the apocalypse.

 

“He does?” Dean asked, almost forgetting that he didn’t want to trust them. He also started to thumb through the album, his eyes getting wider with every turn of the page.

 

Sam laughed and nodded his head. “You’re thirty four, Dean.”

 

“How do I know you?” Dean asked, pointing at Castiel. “I don’t remember you.”

 

“I’m an Angel of the Lord.” Castiel told Dean.

 

“Dad says angels don’ exist.” Dean said suspiciously. Castiel got ready to show Dean his wings, but Dean continued. “But mom always told me they were watching over me, and if Sammy trusts you, then I guess I can try… but no funny business, got it?”

 

Sam had to hold in a smile at Dean's attempt at acting like authority.

 

“No funny business.” Castiel agreed.

 

\---------------

 

At the store, Sam was lost. He didn’t know if he needed to be worried about choking hazards, would fabric softener irritate Dean’s skin? Honestly he was surprised that he’d had enough forethought to check the size of Dean’s clothes.

 

After a few minutes of panic, his saving grace in the form of a man in his late twenties. “This your first time shopping for a kid?”

 

“Yeah, I have to take my nephew for a while, and I have no idea what to get.” This guy seemed friendly enough, and hopefully he knew what Sam needed.

 

“How old is he? I’m Jim, by the way.” Jim said, offering his hand for a handshake.

 

“Sam, and Dean - that’s his name, is five years old. Him staying with me was kind of a last minute thing, otherwise I’d probably be good.” Sam replied, a little nervously, because at some point he’d started caring if a complete stranger thought he was an irresponsible caretaker.

 

“Nah, it’s fine. My sister and her wife own the store, and I help out a lot. You definitely aren’t the least prepared person to come around here.” Jim smiled, and started to walk Sam towards another aisle. “You said he was five?” Sam nodded, and he started showing him the different brands. “You were in the wrong aisle, you were right about needing a gentler soap than adults, but you were looking at baby soap. It’s pretty much the same, but it’s more expensive.”

 

Jim led Sam through the store, showing him everything he needed, before they parted ways at the door. “If you ever need any advice, just call here,” He said as he handed Sam a business card. “My partner, Alex, runs a daycare; they’d probably be more help.”

 

“Thanks, I never would’ve gotten through this without you.” Sam said, smiling.  _ Guess there is good in this world. _

 

\---------------

 

After Sam had left, Castiel sat back on the bed next to Dean. While he normally felt a significant need to protect the Winchesters (the feeling might have been stronger towards Dean, but Castiel wasn’t going to admit that yet), since Dean’s been de-aged, he constantly felt the need to be close to Dean. The guardian angel in himself that still saw him as the Winchester’s protector told him to keep an eye on Dean, and make sure that nothing else happened.  Looking at Dean’s soul, he smiled as he watched it glow and swirl, reacting to the dream he was having.

 

Castiel had always loved humans, and watching them. He loved their souls, they might even be his favorite part about humans, but Dean’s was exceptional. He’d never seen another soul like it, the only soul that could rival Dean’s soul was Sam’s. They weren’t similar, both unique, but Dean’s glowed brighter, while Sam’s was dimmer, but still, brighter than most human’s.

 

Even in Hell, he was shocked at the vibrancy, in a place designed to break and extinguish, this soul had managed to stay bright, and colorful. Since he’d rescued Dean, his soul had only grown brighter.

 

As he was watching, the soul turned a warm red gold, the same color it turned when talking about Sam, or Mary, or Bobby. He had once seen it turn that color, when Dean was talking about him, and he’d decided since then that it was his favorite memory. It was kind of incredible, that he’d been alive since the earth had been created, he’d seen all of the archangels at their most magnificent, he could remember the time before Lucifer’s fall, when everyone was happy, he could remember Gabriel teaching him and all of the other fledglings how to fly. Yet, Castiel’s favorite memory was his human thinking of him as his family.


	4. Diners and Pie

Dean played cards by himself while Sam and Cas were researching. Cas offered to play with him once, but Dean refused, saying that they needed to research.

 

At noon, Sam needed a break. They weren’t any closer to finding out who the witch was, their only suspects being the divorcée and literally anyone at the bar, which he’d investigated first thing after he’d woken up. Sam planned on breaking into Ms Levett’s house that night, to look for hex bags, but until then, they needed to keep their eyes open for new clues.

 

When Sam heard Dean’s stomach rumbling, he knew it was time to get lunch. “Cas, Dean, let’s go. It’s time for lunch, and that diner down the street looked really good.”

 

Dean jumped up, and stuffed his feet into his new shoes, very hungry. “Let’s go!”

 

Castiel chuckled a little at Dean’s enthusiasm; it seems that his love of food started early in life. He knew that he’d made a mistake when the five year old turned to him with a very serious face.

 

“Cas, this isn’t funny. There might be  _ pie _ .” Dean reprimanded Cas, and Castiel nodded, somehow managing to keep his patented straight face.

 

“I understand, and I apologize for implying that pie wasn’t a serious matter.” Thankfully, Dean turned around to follow Sam out the door before Cas broke his composure, he hadn’t felt the need to laugh or smile so hard in...ever.

 

Sam gave him an understanding grin when had to wait another few seconds to come out of the room to keep from laughing. As soon as Cas came out, and they started walking, Dean raced to the impala and waited for them to catch up, impatiently shifting his feet.

 

“I forgot just how cute Dean was when he was a kid,” Sam said, smiling. “I guess it was because I was a kid at the time too, and never really saw him from an adult perspective.”

 

Cas grinned as Dean started gesturing for them to go faster. “Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy. I was actually expecting it to be harder to care for him than it is.”

 

“Yeah?” Sam asked, surprised.

 

“From what I’ve seen, most human children are loud, energetic, and tend to complain very loudly when told to sit still while people research.” Castiel replied, still looking at Dean. “I expected him to be all that, and more so, considering that it’s Dean.”

 

“Well I imagine that Dean probably would be like that if we’d grown up in Kansas.” Sam said, frowning. Cas looked away from Dean (now trying to stick his arm through the cracked window to unlock the car) to stare at Sam. “Being raised by John Hunter First, Dad Later Winchester, whining wasn’t tolerated. If you interfered with research, you were locked out of the room until he was done, or until you could prove you could be quiet. You learn fast to be quiet while the adults are talking.”

 

Castiel had stopped. “You are telling me that John Winchester forced you to be quiet by locking you outside of safety,  _ shelter _ , alone?”

 

“Yeah. It wasn’t ‘till around high school that I realized that wasn’t normal. I don’t know when Dean realized it wasn’t normal, because he never showed it. Still did what was asked of him, no complaints.”

 

“We will not be doing this. Dean deserves a proper childhood while he’s in this form. Or as close as we can get to it.” There was no room for argument.

 

“I never considered otherwise.”

 

\---------------

 

Thankfully, Dean didn’t notice that Cas had  lost his lighthearted attitude, and the angel soon pushed his conversation with Sam to the back of his head. It was almost impossible for him to be unhappy while Dean was pointing out every animal they passed.

 

“Sam! Sammy I think there’s pie!” Dean exclaimed as they walked (read: tried to keep up with the running kindergartener) into the diner, holding Castiel’s hand. Castiel hadn’t realized how much strength a five year old had until his arm was being practically yanked out of its socket by the seemingly harmless boy trying to race towards the dessert case.

 

“You know what, Dean? I think there is. You can have some…  _ after _ you’ve eaten some lunch.” Sam laughed at the sad face Dean gave him. “And you say  _ I’m _ good with the puppy eyes. Kid’s a pro, right Cas?” Sam turned back to look at Castiel, and raised his eyebrow when he saw the look on Cas’s face.

 

“Are you sure that it’s entirely necessary-” Castiel cut himself off as he realized that he’d almost been manipulated by the five year old still trying his damnedest to look as sad as possible. “Let’s find a table.” He said quickly, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder and leading him towards a booth with blue seats.

 

Sam smiled, watching Cas and Dean interact, knowing that Dean would never be that open in his normal state.  _ I just hope that he doesn’t cut himself off from us when we get him back _ , Sam thought, knowing that it was the most likely possibility. His phone rang, and he excused himself, seeing that it was the coroner calling.

 

_ “We’ve got another vic.” _

 

\---------------

 

Sam just wanted to see the body, why did they feel the need to explain the whole thing again? His patience thinning, he listened through the whole case  _ again _ , wishing he’d just broken into the morgue.

 

This time the victim was female, Lila Ethans, with almost the same injuries as Levett. Her vagina was burned, almost to the bone, but instead of one, she had three kind of stab wounds. She was passing through town and staying at a motel for a night or two. She had arrived after Levett, the only connection being that they both went to  _ Death & Co. _ , the bar.

 

Sam left quickly, knowing that there wasn’t any more he could get from staying at the morgue, and he knew Cas would want to know what happened as soon as possible. The angel had wanted to come to the morgue with him, but eventually they both agreed that it would be better for him to stay behind. They couldn’t leave Dean behind, and it would be hard to explain that Sam had a new partner and said partner had brought a five year old to look at a corpse.

 

\---------------

 

When Sam got back to the motel room, Cas was watching  _ Dr Sexy _ with Dean, occasionally explaining what new technology was if Dean asked. Sam took a picture of them laying on the bed, planning to use it as blackmail when they got Dean back. He was also going to frame the picture and put it in the bunker because, sue him, Sam thought that his brother was adorable at five years.

 

Thankfully, Dean had recorded it, so Cas could skip all of the more...inappropriate things. The last few episodes were pretty tame, so he didn’t have to do much.

 

After Sam had spent a few seconds basking in the moment, he pulled Cas to talk with him in the hall.

 

“She’s pretty much got the same injuries, but, she wasn’t even in town at the same time as him. The only connection they’ve got is the bar. I think I’m gonna try and check the bar out again, maybe there’ll be something I didn’t find anything last time.”

 

“That sounds like a good plan, I’ll take care of Dean while you do that.”

 

“You sure? You could go instead, I don’t mind taking babysitting duty.” Sam offered, but Cas just nodded and said he was fine with Dean. “It’s like you’re turning into a full-time mom,” He laughed teasingly, nudging Cas in the side.

 

“Are you insulting my child?” Castiel replied in a deadpan. Despite what Dean seemed to think, Castiel had picked up on the concept of humor while on earth.

 

Sam laughed loudly, partly in shock at Castiel responding in an almost human way, and clapped Cas on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll just say bye to Dean,” But as Sam walked into the motel room they were staying in, he stopped. Dean was gone.

 

Castiel peered around Sam, trying to see why he stopped, and then pushed in front of him, quickly searching the room, and when that turned up no results, he used his grace to try to locate Dean. “Sam-I-I can’t find him.” Beginning to panic, he turned back to Sam.

  
Sam had his hand held out to Cas, palm up. Sulfur.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bar mentioned (Death and Co.) is an actual bar in New York. I've never been there, but it sounded like a good bar name. I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	5. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's been a while, school's been kinda hectic. I hope you like it! :)

Less than ten minutes later, they were summoning Crowley.

 

“What do you want? I don’t have time for chit chat.” The giant arseholes had summoned him from a very important meeting. “Where’s Squirrel? I’ve been wanting to see the little tyke.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes, he just wanted to get this over with so they could have Dean back. “Quit the act, we know you have him.”

 

“Me?” Crowley asked raising his eyebrows, smirking as he saw the angel’s eyes flash blue for a second. “No, I don’t have him.”

 

“And we’re supposed to trust you...why?” Sam replied. “Come on, you hate the both of us and want us dead, you can’t honestly think I’d be stupid enough to believe you.”

 

“Oh, no I’d kill any you in a heartbeat. I’m just not  _ stupid _ . If I’m going to kill one of you, I’d have to kill all three at once, or face the wrath of morons two and three. I’m innocent - well, in this matter at least. If you don’t mind, I need to get back. Hell to run, resistance to squash. Terrible talking to you.” He snapped his fingers, but he didn’t budge. “Bollocks.”  _ Forgot about the demon trap. _

 

“You’re not leaving anytime soon. We know it was demons, so until you tell us what happened, you’re stuck right here.” Sam told him, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms as Castiel took out his angel blade threateningly.

 

“I’m afraid you should speak quickly, we aren’t feeling very patient at the moment.” Sam told Crowley, as Castiel twirled his blade and stepped forward.

 

“Eligos.” Crowley told them, glaring at them. “He’s a lower class demon, barely a decade old, and he’s decided he wants to overthrow me.  _ Me _ . His  _ king _ . I-”

 

“Shut up, this isn’t about you.” Sam told Crowley, pushing off the wall and standing next to Castiel. “Eligos? Wasn’t he in the bible?”

 

“The original? Yes,  _ he _ was in the bible, but this one is a cheap knockoff. His real name is Roger, but he decided that wasn’t menacing enough. Bet you, souls to donuts, he’s the one that took Squirrel. Now can  _ someone _ break this trap so I can leave?”

 

“One more thing,” Sam started, and Crowley rolled his eyes. “How did you know that Dean was a kid?”

 

“I always have someone tailing you. I know everything that happens with the two of you, emotional constipation to papercuts to self worth issues.” Crowley replied, summoning some scotch.

 

“Then why didn’t you know that Dean was kidnapped?”

 

“My demon didn’t check in this morning; I assumed you’d killed him.” Crowley thought for a moment, and then sighed. “I’m going to have to help you save the little bastard, aren’t I?”

 

“Yes.” For the first time since Crowley appeared, Castiel spoke, and it was with more contempt than Crowley had ever seen from the angel.

 

“Wonderful.”

 

\---------------

 

After they’d gotten Dean’s location (“You  _ didn’t _ use a tracking spell to try to find him?” “We were a little distressed at the time.” “How you morons haven’t died for good yet is beyond me…”),  Crowley called his remaining semi loyal demons to prepare for the siege.

 

There had been negative (but unsurprised) reactions when the demons had found out they were working with Sam Winchester and Castiel. Thankfully, Crowley had fixed that with a  _ truly _ rousing speech (“Yes, we may be working with them, but remember: we’re not really working  _ with _ them, we’re working  _ beside _ them. Our goal: squash the resistance, as well as any other thoughts of rebellion from the remaining demons. Their goal: save ‘no homo’. We’re not really helping them, just working with them. As a bonus, now is the perfect time to kill one of them and make it look like an accident. If you manage get all three of them dead by the end of the night, you’re in for a promotion.”).

 

It was time to move.

 

\---------------

 

As they pulled up to the abandoned Wal-Mart, Castiel felt a mix of emotions that he didn’t understand. He didn’t like not understanding things, so he tried to think of them objectively to figure things out a bit.

 

He felt anger, that someone would try to hurt Dean, he felt… the need to make sure Dean was unharmed, he felt more anger - at himself, and Crowley. At himself because he didn’t protect Dean like he swore he would. At Crowley, because it was technically  _ his _ demons that had done this.

 

Last, he felt scared. Scared that he hadn’t gotten there in time, that Dean had been killed. While he had been accepted back into heaven, he wasn’t allowed to bring people back. He wasn’t allowed to bring the Winchester’s back, is what Saraquel had meant. He could aid Sam in bringing Dean back, of course, indirect resurrection wasn’t  _ specifically _ outlawed, but he knew that Dean would never forgive him. Because every time one of them came back, there was a price to be payed, and Dean would never look at him the same if Sam had to pay that price, and Castiel would never survive that.

 

Finally, everything was ready (one of the things Castiel hated about working with demons: they never understood the concept of time, or things needing to be done on time.), and it was time to attack.

 

It was clear that Eligos had more followers than anticipated the second they came in; they were immediately ambushed and surrounded, and even some of Crowley’s party turned on them, shouting about Crowley having gone soft, but Castiel didn’t care.

 

Castiel flew, popping into each aisle, into the back rooms, the freezer, until he found Dean. Dean strapped to a chair in the butcher’s section, gagged and blindfolded, crying silently. His soul was no longer gold, or red, or blue, or any of the colors Castiel had come to associate his soul with, Dean’s soul was a pale, sickly, green. 

 

_ Chartreuse _ .

 

It was at that exact moment that Castiel was stabbed in the back with a meat cleaver.

 

The angel pulled the knife out of his back, and turned to look at the demon, who was now looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He smote him, then turned to look at the other four demons in the room.

 

The demon wearing the butcher snarled, and lunged at him. Castiel dodged, and let his blade slide out of his coat sleeve. He stabbed that her, and smote the other one, who was trying to attack him from behind. He slit the throat of the male demon trying to escape, and turned to find the final demon, who was holding an angel blade.

 

They circled each other, then she lunged forwards, going for Castiel’s leg. He dodged, and sliced the demon’s wrist, right where the tendon was, causing her to drop her blade. She tried to smoke out, but only got part of the way out of her meatsuit before she was forced back in, and Castiel stabbed her heart.

 

Turning back to Dean, he saw that the child had started screaming and crying around his gag, able to hear the fighting, but unable to see what was happening.

 

Castiel noticed, with a flinch, that there was blood on Dean’s cheek from one of the demons, as well as all down his right side,.  _ And I promised a safe second childhood. _ He thought with disgust.

 

Castiel disintegrated the restraints holding Dean with a snap of his fingers, and then crouched next to the boy. “You’re safe… You’re safe now,” He whispered, holding Dean, hating the fact that his soul was still that disgusting color.

 

Castiel took off his trench coat, and wrapped up the still sobbing child, continuing to whisper any form of reassurance he could think of. He transported the two of them next to Sam, and then took the three of them back to the bunker.

  
He didn’t let go of Dean all night; when 7:30 came, and it was time for bed, he curled around the small boy, willing his heart to beat, and forcing himself to breathe. He was going to be as human as possible.


	6. Purple Rapunzel Pyjamas

Sam sat anxiously in the kitchen the next morning, pretending that he wasn’t waiting for Dean and Cas to come out of Dean’s room. Dean was safe last night, and, in all probability, now, but he was still worried. He’d barely been able to sleep the whole night, trying to resist the urge to check on Dean every few minutes. The only thing keeping him from sitting outside Dean’s room with an angel blade was the knowledge that Castiel wouldn’t let anything happen to the kid.

 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for long, because, despite all the action of the precious day, Dean woke up at 7 AM. He walked into the kitchen next to Cas, holding his hand and talking in great detail about that one time John took him to an amusement park (haunted, of course), and let him go on rides. 

 

Sam served Dean some pancakes, and raised his eyebrows when Castiel requested a plate.  _ That’s new _ he thought, deciding to ask him about it later, but still served Castiel some chocolate chip pancakes and bacon (though the angel didn’t get to eat much of his bacon. One pleading look from Dean and a “Please Cassie?” melted his heart so much he didn’t even care that he only got one slice).

 

The three of them eating together felt good, it even felt  _ normal _ . Well, aside from Dean being a five year old, that was different. But Sam, Dean, and Cas, eating and joking around, Cas sitting too close to Dean. Sam wanted it to happen more, he loved the both of them, and liked seeing them happy and safe.

 

\---------------

 

Sam hated that he had to leave Dean again so soon, but they still needed to turn him back. He had already packed, and the car was ready to go. All he had left to do before he went was to say goodbye to Dean.

 

“Hey, Dee.” Sam said softly, smiling at the sight of Dean sitting in Cas’s lap as the angel read  _ And Tango Makes Three _ to him. Thankfully, Castiel had just finished, so he wasn’t interrupting the story.

 

“Sammy?” Dean asked, rubbing his eyes. It was almost time for his nap, so he was pretty sleepy.

 

“I’m gonna have to go away for a bit,” When Sam saw Dean start to panic, he hurriedly continued. “Not for long, and I’m gonna call every day, and Cassie’s going to stay here with you, you won’t be alone.” He didn’t miss the way Cas shifted uncomfortably when Sam called him ‘Cassie’. Guess it was one of those things that only Dean could call him.  _ God I hope they get over themselves once Dean gets back… It’s been torture waiting for them to get together. _

 

“Sam is right. You can’t stay this way forever, and the way to turn you back is to find the witch.” Castiel told Dean, rubbing his arm comfortingly.

 

“Why?” Dean asked, pouting.

 

“Why what?” Sam responded, confused, as Castiel stilled his hand.

 

“Why can’t I stay like this forever?” Dean replied, and then looked down. “I… sometimes I dream about being big.” Sam and Cas locked eyes, alarmed. “I don’t like it. I know you lied when you said Dad was on a hunt. He’s dead. Big me… he was sad. Real sad. I don’t know why, but I know he was. I don’t want to be sad.”

 

Sam and Castiel were shocked, and Castiel had subconsciously begun to hold Dean tighter in his arms.

 

Finally, Sam knelt down so his head was on Dean’s level. “Yes, Big Dean was sad, but we’re trying to fix that. I think he’s getting less sad. We need Big Dean. We will always love you in any form, but I miss him. He won’t get less sad if we don’t help him, and we need you big for that.” Dean nodded, and when Cas let him go, he hugged Sam. Castiel stood up, and hugged Sam too, assuring him that he’d take care of Dean while he was gone.

 

\---------------

 

Once he got back to the town, and he went over the facts again, Sam suddenly knew who the witch was. It was the bartender, Lizabeth.

 

Angry at himself for not seeing the obvious, he got his gun, the witch killing bullets, and took a trip to  _ Death and Co. _ This witch was going to pay.

 

\---------------

 

When he got there, thankfully it was almost empty. He locked eyes with Lizabeth, and it was clear that she knew she’d been caught. He showed his gun, mouthed  _ witch killing bullets _ , and gestured towards the back room.

 

“Turn him back.” Sam demanded once in the room, the gun pointing at her head.

 

“What?” Lizabeth said, holding her hands up, and backing towards the wall.

 

“You heard me. Turn. My brother. Back.” Sam said slowly, and made a show of turning the safety off.

 

“So he is your brother?” The witch asked, raising her hands a little higher. “It’s not that kind of spell. It wears off. In the next…” She glanced at her watch. “Hour or so, actually. My name’s Lizabeth. Can I put my hands down?”

 

Sam’s jaw twitched, and he narrowed his eyes. “No. If it’s ‘not that kind of spell’, then what kind of spell is it?”

 

“It’s a timed spell, which means it wears off after a certain amount of time. You said he turned into something? What did he turn into?” Lizabeth asked curiously.

 

“You  _ didn’t know what he would turn into _ ?” Sam demanded, lowering his gun in shock.

 

“Well, yeah. It was a pretty vague spell. You know, ‘use this spell and whomever it is cast on will go on a journey to realize they are loved’, or some cheesy shit.” She kept talking, not realizing that Sam was still processing the meaning of the spell. “I didn’t realize it would transform him into anything, it wasn’t in the transfiguration part of the book. I thought it would be more like a series of dreams.”

 

“You didn’t want to hurt him?” Sam asked, sitting in a chair at the circular table. “If I’m supposed to believe that, then what about those people you killed?”

 

Lizabeth’s eyes narrowed and grew cold. “Bastards deserved it.”

 

“Why?” Sam asked, before she put her hand on his shoulder and took him into her memories.

 

\---------------

 

_ Lizabeth was mixing some drinks for a college dude with a nice butt when she saw him. The man was standing very close to a woman, and it’s obvious that she was extremely uncomfortable. He was breathing down her neck, and the way he was standing kept her from getting up and walking away. _

 

_ Lizabeth walked over to them, and asked the woman to help her take out the trash, acting as if they were great friends. She learned the woman’s name was Lindsay, and they worked in the back until Lizabeth’s shift was almost over. _

 

_ Lizabeth walked out of the bar, ready to go back to the apartment, but she stopped when she heard a muffled scream coming from the alley next to  _ Death and Co _. She ran, and saw the man from earlier attempting pinning Lindsay against the walls, and forcibly kissing her against her will. She cast a knocking out spell on the man. After getting Lindsay to safety, she put another, more dangerous hex bag in his coat pocket. _

 

\---------------

 

Sam leaned back in his chair, his mind reeling from the new information. “And the woman?” He asked, already having guessed the answer.

 

“I saw her trying to drug a guy’s drink.” Lizabeth replied, disgust in her voice. “Are you still going to kill me? I mean, they  _ did _ deserve it.”

 

“No. I’m not going to kill you,” Sam said, and she smiled. “ _ But _ you have to stop killing people for things they’ve done. No exceptions.” Her eyes flashed, and he smirked at her. “Of course, my hunter’s morals only go so far… I’d say keep the injuries downstairs, lose the stabbing. STIs are a good way to go too.”

 

Lizabeth smiled and held out her hand to shake. “Deal.” She stood up, and started to walk away.

 

“Liz-” Sam started, then looked down. “Did my brother really think that little of himself?”

 

Her eyes softened, and she, again, put her hand on his shoulder.

 

\---------------

 

_ Liz looked sadly at the blond man standing at her bar. She’d been watching him since he’d heard him talking with who she assumed was her brother about calling the other person, Castiel. She’d known they were hunters since they walked in, but knew that they would probably leave soon, as long as she toned down things a bit. _

 

It really is a shame, he should know how much they care about him _. She thought. Her heart had ached for him earlier, hearing not only what he said out loud about what he thought Castiel’s opinion of him was. She felt even worse when she decided to tune into his thoughts, and hearing how little he thought not only Castiel, but Sam thought of him. Her decision had been cemented by the time he’d been standing at the bar, with those thoughts the only thing for him to focus on. _ I’m going to do something about this, he needs to know that they love him, no matter how much of a burden he believes himself to be.

 

_ She put a little de aging spell in his beer, and told him to have a good night. _

 

\---------------

 

Sam closed his eyes, and thanked the witch as she patted his shoulder and left him alone in the room.

 

His phone beeped with a text from Cas, it said  _ Dean’s back _ .

 

\---------------

 

Dean woke up in his room, and tried to sit up, but realized he was being held down by something. Some _ one _ . His eyes adjusted, and he saw the trench coat hanging on his chair, and all of his knives were gone.

 

“Cas.”

 

“Mhmph.”

 

“Cas.” The angel only pulled Dean closer, and buried his nose in Dean’s hair. “ _ Castiel Angel of the Lord if you do not tell me what is happening right this goddamn minute someone is going to get hurt. _ ” 

 

That woke him up. Cas jumped up, and unwound his arms from around Dean, who was  _ definitely _ not disappointed about that, except he was.

 

Dean reached over to turn on his lamp, and realized something very important when he looked down. “Cas. Why am I wearing purple princess pyjamas.”

 

Uncertainly, as if afraid that Dean was going to get mad, Castiel replied, “...Because you wanted them?”

 

With that sentence, Dean remembered everything. Including the purple princess pyjamas. “Why did you let me  _ get them _ ?” He groaned, lying back and putting his hands on his face, almost forgetting that Cas was still in the bed.

 

No longer afraid of being the subject of Dean’s freak out, Castiel now looked defiant. “Because you wanted them, and I saw no reason not to let you get them. They were even on sale.”

 

“But they have  _ Rapunzel _ on them.”

 

“And they looked adorable.” Cas had slowly been leaning back to lie next to Dean during the conversation.

 

“‘M not ‘dorable.” Dean’s reply was muffled from the pillow.

 

_ Adorable. _ Castiel thought, and started stroking his hair, like he’d done when Dean was younger… Which, to be fair was around five minutes ago.

 

“Th’fuck’re you doin’?” Castiel heard Dean say, but knew he was enjoying it from the way his soul glowed and swirled in contentment.

 

“If you would like me to stop, please tell me, and I will.” He replied, smiling.

 

“Fuck you.” Dean said, turning his head and looking at Cas. After a few seconds, he leaned up and pecked Cas on the lips, and then came back for a longer kiss.

 

After Dean pulled away, Castiel stared at him, willing to try pinching himself in case this was a dream.

 

“What’re you waitin’ for? Get over here and spoon me you idiot.”

 

Who was Castiel to deny Dean? “Goodnight Dean.”

 

“‘Night Cas.”

 

\---------------

 

In his dreams, Dean saw a tall indian woman whom he vaguely recognized as the bartender from a few nights ago.

 

“You see?” She said, smiling.

 

“See  _ what _ ? And why are you in my dreams?” He demanded, stepping forwards and grabbing his gun from the waistband of his jeans.

 

She rolled her eyes, and waved her hand. The gun disappeared. “Short story is, I heard your thoughts and realized how wrong you were about yourself, so I quickly mixed a little something up and added it to your beer refill. It was supposed to make you realize how much you are loved by your family. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that it would do anything more than send you on dream journeys for a bit.” To his confused face, she responded, “I’m a witch...” and gestured at herself.

 

“You’re the witch from the town.” He said, realizing who she was. “You killed those people!” He exclaimed, lunging towards her, but she only appeared a few feet back.

 

“I already went over this with your brother,” She complained. “Did the point get across, at least?” Even though he didn’t say anything, she smiled. “Good.”

 

She was gone.

  
“Weirdest dream of my life.” Dean muttered, then tried to will himself out of the empty room that she’d chosen for their dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter to go! It's kind of just a cute fluffy chapter from Sam's POV.


	7. Additional Sam Fluff Scene

Sam sighed, shutting the door to the car; it’s been a long day. He kind of wished Dean was still five, he was certainly more affectionate and open to hugging than thirty four year old Dean, and Sam felt like he needed a hug.

 

Sam didn’t even bother unpacking; he told himself that he’d do it in the morning. Sam knew he wouldn’t. If Dean remembered, he’d probably be busy pretending nothing had happened so that Dean could repair his fragile masculinity. Maybe comforting Cas if Dean had exploded on him, like Dean was prone to do in situations where he was forced to be emotionally vulnerable.

 

Sam was really hoping Dean didn’t remember, hopefully the emotional fallout wouldn’t be as bad.

 

On the way to his room, Sam paused. Something was off. He heard voices coming from Dean’s room. Calm voices. One could even say they were happy.

 

Sam took out his gun, and peered through the cracked door. Cas and Dean were sitting in Dean’s bed. Well, really, they were lying. On his bed.  _ Together _ . He watched as Dean sat up to peck Cas on the lips, laughing.

 

Sam smiled, and put away his gun.  _ It’s about time. _ As he was walking towards his room, he stopped.

 

“Can’t we sleep for a bit? Sam’s not gonna be back for a few hours.” Dean said, and Sam could imagine he was doing the pouty lips, probably hoping it worked as well when he was an adult as it did when he was a child.

 

“Fine. Come here,” Castiel said, but Sam could tell he was smiling.

 

“Do… Do you think Sam will think of me differently?” Dean asked quietly, and Sam just managed to stop himself from coming in and telling him that as long as they kept the sex in Dean’s (their?) bedroom, he didn’t care.

 

“Dean. I’m going to say something, and I want you to listen carefully.” Cas said very seriously, and Sam could imagine him cupping Dean’s face with his hand. “Sam has known you were bisexual since you were fourteen. Do you remember how I had to go through his memories during the last hunt?” There was a pause as Dean presumably nodded. “ Bobby knew also. They once left pamphlets about coming out around the house and junkyard, hoping you’d tell them. Obviously it didn’t work.”

 

Sam didn’t think Cas saw  _ those _ memories. He shuddered, remembering how he had to share a bed with Dean. He’d perfected the ‘wait until he’s asleep, then move to the floor before he wakes up’ as a teenager.

 

“All of us love you, no matter your orientation. You’d have to be an idiot not to realize that.”

  
Sam nodded, silently agreeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. The last chapter. I'm also starting a series of kind of oneshots. They're connected because it's Castiel's experiences as a human, in an alternate canon in which Sam is not sick, and Dean didn't kick Cas out. I know, I know, I'm really lovin' the alternate canon of seasons over two years ago. I'm not sure if it'll be Castiel/Dean Winchester, or if it'll just be a non romantic fic. See y'all later! :D


End file.
